


An Old Charm for Another Rainy Day

by RavenMague



Category: Hyde Jekyll Me (2015), 밥 잘 사주는 예쁜 누나 | Something in the Rain (TV), 사랑의 불시착 | Crash Landing on You (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Childhood Trauma, Crossover, Crossover Pairings, F/M, Family, Romance, Sad and Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-22
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-13 18:48:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28908090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RavenMague/pseuds/RavenMague
Summary: What comes after Goo Seo Jin and Yoon Jin Ah's happily ever after?A #12DaysofCLOYcember wish based on "A Second Strike Of Lightning".
Relationships: Gu Seo Jin/Yoon Jin Ah (Something in the Rain)
Kudos: 8





	An Old Charm for Another Rainy Day

**Author's Note:**

> Author's Notes: Originally posted on Wattpad on December 23, 2020.

All Yoon Jin Ah ever wanted to do that day was to close her office laptop shut. She would not have opened it in the first place, but a message from one of her assistant managers desperately asking for her kind help to put out some fires at work was all it took for her to steal a couple of minutes from her precious holiday in Seoul and fire up her machine.

Minutes that turned to hours — three, to be exact.

“I’ve already spoken to the client, Sheryl. Their social media team will manage the uproar from their stakeholders and assure them that there has not been a breach of data privacy and security. In return, you must keep them posted on what’s happening in the war room,” she instructed her direct report with whom she was in a video call with.

_Alright. I’ll call them in another half-an-hour._

Lips pursed in a tight line, Jin Ah shook her head and voiced out her stern refusal, “No. That wouldn’t do. With or without progress, it is imperative that you call them every fifteen minutes to show that we’re on it… that we’re still in control.”

_Got it, Jin Ah. Will do_ , her manager acknowledged. _Anyhow, I truly apologize for disturbing you on your vacation. The client was insisting to get you on the line._

“No worries. I am glad to buy the team some time. Let me know if anything else comes up, okay?”

The second she put down her headset, the two boys — a pair of five year-olds who were indisputably spitting images of the love of her life — emerged from where they were lurking by the doorway of their study and came running towards her, and she quickly rose to her feet to catch them in a bear hug.

“How long have you been standing there, Seo Bin?” she asked the elder twin whom she was holding with her left arm.

“I’m not Seo Bin, Mama. I’m Seo Joon!” the boy begged to differ, and for a brief moment, his eyes crinkled into twinkling crescent-moons as he tried to contain his laughter.

To humor her little rascals, Jin Ah pretended to be taken aback by her son’s declaration because she was a hundred and one percent positive that from the day they were born, there had not been any incident of her mixing up the two. She dramatically pulled away a bit to behold his face, her eyes narrowing into slits as she scrutinized the distinct features that set him apart from his brother — those subtle attributes which seemed to be exclusively perceivable to mothers.

Clucking her tongue loudly against her palate, she uttered his name in mock warning, “Goo Seo Bin.”

“I’m Seo Bin,” she heard the other boy claim.

Immediately, she turned to the younger charmer who was flashing an uncannily familiar boyish smirk her way.

“Nope. You’re not fooling me, honey,” she told her second-born. “You are Goo Seo Joon.”

It was apparent in the way the boys groaned at the exact same time (Always in seamless synchronization with each other, those two.) that they did not anticipate their mother to catch on their prank without breaking a sweat.

“Mama, how did you know?” Seo Joon pouted at her before pointing at his mustard-colored shirt. “We swapped clothes. See?”

Amused at her children’s poor attempt at mischief, she only smiled at them and poked on the sole dimple that graced a cheek of each of the twins — a shared inheritance from their father.

Her Goo Seo Jin.

It was during moments like these when Jin Ah was most grateful to her lucky stars, for she could not believe how the birth of her sons easily dispelled most of her earlier fears. She could clearly recall how she was reduced to a crying mess when she saw the two red lines of the pregnancy kit glaring at her on the bathroom sink back at their apartment in Perth five years ago. She was beyond terrified; they had just celebrated their anniversary and with the set-up they had agreed to (Seo Jin persuaded her to stay in Australia and volunteered to travel to and fro every three months instead because he did not want to disrupt her thriving career.), they were trying to extend the honeymoon stage for as long as they could. Having a child was the least of their priorities, yet somehow, fate must have thought it was a good idea to surprise them by messing up their plans. Alas, the unforeseen turn of events frightened her to a point wherein her panic attacks staged another resurgence.

However, the instant she heard their heartbeats in the obstetrics clinic on one of her first prenatal visits, all of her apprehensions started to fade.

Except for one.

That specific qualm was tormenting Goo Seo Jin’s mind while he was caught in the gridlock right at the heart of the city at past five in the afternoon.

From where he was trapped in the congested main avenue, their hilltop home was barely thirty five kilometers away. Unfortunately, all thanks to the Friday traffic jam, his usual forty five-minute drive from the office to their unit was already stretching to an hour — or more, if the present circumstances would not improve. So for the time being, all he was able to do was to wait, fingers impatiently drumming on the steering wheel. He craned his neck every now and then to get a visual of the horizon beyond the sea of red lights before him, keeping his fingers and toes crossed that the giant nimbus clouds could hold the ominously heavy volume of rain until he arrived at their building.

Then again, in spite of his high hopes, he pressed speed dial 2 on his SUV’s navigator screen and redialed the number until she picked up.

It took him five attempts before the voice of his wife filled the confines of the vehicle, thus breaking the sequence of dull rings that merely intensified his anxiety.

_Hey!_

“Hey, baby,” he breathed out, relief coloring his rich baritone. “I have been trying to reach you. How are you?”

_Oh, uhmmm…_ by the sounds of her pants, he reckoned she was a bit short-winded from rushing to answer the call. _One second._

The dead air that followed told Seo Jin that she was probably checking the call history, and the soft gasp that escaped her proved him right.

_Yeah… I was eating ice cream with the boys in the kitchen a while ago_ , Jin Ah explained, her words muffled by the lip he assumed she must be chewing on.

“Ahhh… that’s why,” he mumbled. “Cookie Dough or Brownie Fudge?”

_Take a guess._

“Both.”

_Correct._

“Two scoops of each flavor.”

_Yep._

“And the counter is a mess right now.”

Jin Ah simply let out a carefree laughter to demonstrate her agreement.

“Oh boy…” he grumbled, feigning his resignation over the matter. “Anyway, don’t worry. I’ll clean it up later.”

_Later?_ she repeated, confused. _What about dinner and movie night at the park?_

“About that —”

Without warning, a clap of thunder boomed across the same vast sky they were under, simultaneously cutting whatever he was supposed to say and making her jump from where she stood in their study. And through the non-stop honking of the cars beside him courtesy of the growing impatience of the likewise stranded drivers, he sensed the sudden disquiet from the other end of the line.

“Baby, are you still there?” Seo Jin tried to calmly ask, yet the slight quivering in his voice was giving him away. “Jin Ah? Talk to me, please.”

Even with the curtains closed, Jin Ah could imagine how the heavens looked outside the tall windows of the room, and the picture she conjured up was enough to hurl her into the brink of a numbing stupor. Her mind decided not to function on a whim again, causing the scene to appear as if time was on a total standstill — except for the four walls that seemed to be compressing towards the spot where she was rooted. And as the phantom claustrophobia began to set in, the eerie stillness that ensued drowned out Seo Jin’s existence until he diminished into a fading echo in the background.

With her eyes still squeezed shut, Jin Ah gulped before she found the strength to speak again, “I… I’m here. I’m okay.”

_Are you sure?_ she heard the panic in his chest manifesting in the abrupt change in his tone. _Where are you?_

“I’m behind the desk near the windows.”

_What? Jin Ah, are the —_

“I’m fine,” she repeated, her words reflecting a little more confidence than earlier. “I was just startled, that’s all.”

_Okay, okay…_

“Dinner,” she quipped to steer the discussion back to the topic and away from the raging storm outside. “You were saying something about dinner.”

_Right…_ he was quick to figure out what she was trying to do, so he went on with his confession, _We would have to take a rain check on that._

In the past, no form of humor could save Jin Ah from the onslaught of tremors every time the heavens rumbled. It had always been like that, though with the guidance of her psychologist, she learned a few techniques to cope with it over the years of dealing with her childhood trauma. Taking deep and even breaths, counting the seconds in her head, revisiting happy memories — all of these things worked if she diligently focused on keeping the nightmares at bay and as long as Seo Jin was beside her.

Nonetheless, the pun — no matter how corny it was — seemed to do the trick, much to her surprise.

“Oh god… you and your dad jokes!” she remarked through her nervous giggles.

Her husband laughed too, then argued, _You have to admit that it was witty, though._

“Very,” she indulged him with a stifled chuckle.

_That’s the least I can do for now given that I am currently stuck in traffic_ , he notified her in a tone laden with resounding regret and a shade of annoyance. _To be honest, I haven’t even got a clue what time I’ll be home tonight because with how things are going on, only a miracle can improve the current situation in the next fifteen minutes or so._

“It’s that bad, huh?”

_It is._

Jin Ah was left with no choice other than to suck a lungful of air and eventually heave out a sigh, a reaction which was automatically mimicked by Seo Jin.

_Hold on a little longer, please_ , he somberly requested. _I promise, I will be right by your side before you know it._

With that pledge, she slowly opened her eyes as she said, “We’ll wait for you, Goo Seo Jin. Drive safe.”

Soon after she hung up, Jin Ah braved to draw the charcoal drapes that shrouded the window of the study.

The fragility of the quietude outside made her wince, and the foreboding rumbling in the sky that was growing more persistent with each minute was spurring an erratic rhythm inside her chest. Absentmindedly, her fingers latched at the hem of her ivory shirt, fumbling on the buttons to somehow anchor herself to reality as she started her usual routine to find her way out of the woods.

_You can do this_ , she reminded herself for the nth time. You can chase your nightmares away, Yoon Jin Ah. You have to.

“Mama?”

Jin Ah turned and saw the twins peeking at the doorway, brows furrowed as if their sixth sense was warning them that something was bothering her. Of course, she could not let them fret over her well-being because she was their mother. Come hell and high water, she should be the one looking after them and not the other way around.

“Hey,” she greeted them after making sure that she was already able to keep a tight rein on her expressions. “You promised to stay in your room until I got back, right? What’s wrong?”

Obviously hesitating, Seo Joon threw a doubtful glance at his twin before sharing his thoughts, “The storm scares us, Mama.”

“Oh honey…” she cooed, then approached her kids to lead them back to the bedroom at the end of the narrow hall.

While walking, Seo Bin tugged at her hand and asked, “Can you make it go away?”

“Yes, Mama. Please?” Seo Joon insisted with those irresistible puppy eyes.

“I wish I could,” Jin Ah told him in all honesty. “Tough luck, I can’t. One of the limitations of Mama’s superpowers, I’m afraid.”

“How about the rain?” Seo Bin probed further, likewise putting a pleading look on view.

Jin Ah frowned at him and apologized, “I’m sorry, honey. That too.”

The twin boys bowed their heads in unison, shoulders falling in an apparent defeat, and their sulking persisted even as they huddled on either of her side on the full-sized mattress they shared. Seo Bin and Seo Joon nestled themselves closer to her, hiding underneath the blue quilted blanket until only the tops of their bowl cuts showed. And with each roll of thunder, Jin Ah felt them flinch and held her as tight as their small, chubby arms would allow, thereby suppressing her own shudders somehow.

“You guys were never fearful of lightning,” she mused as she patted their backs to calm them.

“That’s because we’re always with you and Papa,” Seo Joon politely pointed out.

“Well… what if Papa and I are not around?”

“Pssh… That’s not going to happen.”

“What if we went somewhere — and it’s just you and Seo Bin?”

“You’re not going to leave us alone,” Seo Bin disputed. “We’re five. And five year-old kids need adults around.”

“Of course, you’ll grow up soon,” she chuckled. “You’ll be six in four months, then seven the following year. Before you even know it, you’re going to turn nine, ten... and you will eventually like it better when we’re not around — trust me.”

Seo Joon squirmed to emerge from the thick covers and stared up at her, then asked, “Weren’t you frightened of the lightning when you were ten, Mama?”

“I still am,” she shrugged.

Seo Bin rolled on his stomach and propped himself on his elbows, his chin resting on one hand as he stared up at her, intrigued.

“No way,” he huffed. “You’re an adult. And adults are not scared of anything.”

“Who says so?”

“Says me.”

Jin Ah smiled at Seo Bin, deeply marveling at how her sons seemed to rival her own guts and wit, and she knew that it would take more than a single statement to convince them.

“Even adults have something that terrifies them, you know?” she informed her eldest and most strong-willed child. “We just don’t let it show because we are your parents. And parents protect their babies.”

At once, Seo Joon turned to lie on his back and crossed his arms on his chest in protest.

“Pssh… That’s not true,” he countered before blowing air out of his lips and causing the wisps of his fringe dance on his forehead. “And we’re no longer babies.”

Seo Bin followed suit and scoffed, “Seo Joon’s right, Mama. We’re five.”

“You just said a while ago that five year-olds are kids,” she reminded them.

“Not babies,” they refuted together.

“Ahhh… Well, all the more reason for you to overcome those fears,” she said.

The twins dilly-dallied for a couple of seconds, then pushed themselves up and knelt beside her.

“How?” the boys uttered their question as one.

Seo Bin and Seo Joon found the answer a while later as their mother bequeathed her best-kept secret. Sitting on the floor beside each other, Jin Ah taught the boys how to create those trusted lucky paper stars that almost never failed to help her navigate through the most turbulent storms of her yesteryears.

Ultimately, her heart swelled when the boys whispered what they wrote on the pastel-colored strips in her ear — the tempestuous downpour that was continuously wreaking havoc outside long forgotten.

“Mama gave me and my brother an extra scoop of ice cream,” said Seo Bin.

“Mama promised to take us out to the park if the sun shines tomorrow,” said Seo Joon.

Unbeknownst to her, she was not the only one who was silently melting in sheer, unbridled bliss because right at the doorstep of their sons’ room was Seo Jin, leaning on the wall with his hands buried in the pockets of his jeans, careful not to make any sound that would disrupt the tender moment.

“Ah! And Papa tended to my wound the other day,” he heard Seo Bin murmur as he scribbled on his paper.

Seo Joon, whose head was perched on top of his arms on the low table, perked up in an instant when another recollection also came to mind, “He also treated us to tteokbokki last Sunday.”

Struck with an idea, Seo Jin traced his steps to their home office — the place where he previously searched for her — to get his camera, his measured strides picking up speed so he could return to the scene right away and take a remembrance of it before it was over.

Meanwhile, back at the table where several tiny origamis were scattered, Jin Ah tousled her children’s hair as she cried in awe, “Wow! My babies can now eat spicy food, huh?”

“Mama!” the twins groaned their objection.

“My boys,” Jin Ah corrected herself before nuzzling each of her son’s noses with the tip of hers — a form of endearment unique to their family of four. “Always my boys.”

Later that evening, Seo Jin returned to their bedroom after tucking the kids to sleep and saw Jin Ah reclining on the headboard, head bent down as she hugged her knees. Without saying a word — no questions, no praises — he reclaimed his spot on her side, and she did not require any other cue to mold herself completely around his body, once again safe and sound inside the warmth of his embrace.

“Care to share how your day was?” he asked as soon as he was certain that her restlessness had subsided a bit.

“Busy. I had to take a call from the Perth office.”

“Why? What happened?”

“There was some glitch in the system. The client wanted me to personally guarantee resolution.”

“I see. Did it take a while to fix it?”

“Four... five hours. I had to pull some strings to get other ITs onboard.”

“Glad to know your team had some help.”

“Me too.”

“What else did I miss?”

“I spoiled Seo Bin and Seo Joon with sweets. I believe I mentioned this to you over the phone.”

“Ahhh… Yes, I remember.”

“Then, it rained.”

“And?”

She snuggled closer to him — so close that the scent of peppermint filled her senses and nothing else — and replied, “God, I thought I was going to lose it.”

“Oh baby,” he softly muttered as he kissed the top of her head. “You did great. You taught them how to fold the paper stars, right?”

“I did, yeah.”

“See? Now, they wouldn’t be afraid of the storm anymore.”

“Unlike me.”

“Hmmm… Did it still trouble you, though?”

“Not as much as it did in the past.”

“That’s my girl,” he said, and it was only then that he realized that he had been holding his breath for a whole minute while waiting for an affirmation that she was indeed alright. “I’m so, so proud of you, Yoon Jin Ah.”

Then, she lifted her face from where it stayed burrowed in his chest, consequently allowing the pent-up emotions to wash over her.

“Of all the days you would be held up in traffic, why did it have to be during another thunderstorm?” she mock-reprimanded him as she wept. “You swore that… Ugh, I hate you. I hate you, Goo Seo Jin.”

“Baby…” he hummed as he brushed the damp corners of her eyes with the back of his finger — half-concerned, half-relieved — all the while shedding his own share of joyful tears. “Do you have an inkling of how many curses I spat at all of the red lights throughout that grueling two hours on the road?”

She simply frowned at him, adamant in displaying her feeble anger until she felt his thumb soothing that crease between her brows.

“Forgive me,” he implored her with a smoldering gaze that she swore could make her say ‘yes’ to everything he ever wished for and more.

“No.”

“Please?”

“On one condition.”

“Anything.”

“Buy me another tub of Cookie Dough ice cream,” Jin Ah obligated him while tempering the residual sobs erupting from her chest. “I spoiled the twins today and consented to a third serving before they slept. So they basically ate what was left in the fridge.”

Seo Jin tut-tutted at her and dramatically shook his head, feigning disapproval.

“I didn’t expect that you would give in to their demands that fast,” he chided her.

“It turns out that I am such a permissive mom after all,” she declared, guilty beyond reasonable doubt. “I tolerate my boys all the time — including my capricious husband.”

“But you do know how much your capricious husband loves you, don't you?”

“I do.”

“And in spite of all his whims and gratuitous requests, you love him, still?”

“I suppose so,” she concurred, nodding slowly. “Although if he doesn’t get me that —”

The rest of Jin Ah’s words died on her mouth when he swooped in to capture her lips without a warning, kissing her gently until the tips of her fingers tickled the spot on his jaw that was her favorite — right where she could feel his pulse racing to the frantic beat of her own heart.

A few moments later, he tore his lips away from hers to behold her face as she opened her eyes, both of them blinking rapidly as if they were proving that everything in the present was not a dream. He tilted his head down to close the short distance between them, for it was his turn to rub the tips of their noses together after another long day of being apart.

“Cookie Dough ice cream it is,” Seo Jin promised.

Then, he reached for the small drawer of the table on his wife’s side of the bed and fumbled beside her crystal jar which was filled to the brim with paper stars to retrieve a Polaroid photo that perfectly immortalized a beautiful memory from that night. It was an image he captured of Jin Ah and their sons as he observed them by the door with their backs on the camera, each of his loved ones folding a strip with a silver lining printed on it — saving their own versions of an old charm for another rainy day.

With a plethora of feelings he could not process all at once — of gratitude and pride, of affection and yearning, of hope and wishful thinking — he showed it to her. And for the first time that night, he saw her smile at last.


End file.
